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VI

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Jonathan was sitting in a chair before the fire. His short legs were drawn up, knees to chin, and he hugged his shins like some plump and exultant kobold. He turned his spectacles towards Mandrake, and, by that familiar trick of light, the thick lenses obscured his eyes and glinted like two moons.

‘I’ve been eavesdropping,’ Mandrake repeated.

‘My dear Aubrey, come in, come in. Eavesdropping? Nonsense. You heard our friend Nicholas? Good! I was coming to your room to relate the whole story. A diverting complication.’

‘I only heard a little of what he said. I’d come down to the smoking room.’ He saw Jonathan’s spectacles turned on the book he still held in his hand. ‘Not really to fetch a book,’ said Mandrake.

‘No? One would seek a book in the library, one supposes. But I am glad my choice for your room was not ill-judged.’

‘I wanted to see this.’

Like a small boy in disgrace, Mandrake extended his right hand and opened it, disclosing the crumpled form.

‘Ah,’ said Jonathan.

‘You have seen it?’

‘Nick told me about it. I wondered if anyone else would share my own curiosity. May I have it? Ah – Thank you. Sit down, Aubrey.’ Mandrake sat down, tortured by the suspicion that Jonathan was laughing at him.

‘You see,’ said Mandrake, ‘that I am badly inoculated with your virus. I simply could not go to bed without knowing what was on that form.’

‘Nor I, I assure you. I was about to look for it myself. As perhaps you heard, Nick is in a great tig. It seems that before coming here he had had letters from Hart warning him off the lady. According to Nick, Hart is quite mad for love of her and consumed by an agonizing jealousy.’

‘Poor swine,’ said Mandrake.

‘What? Oh, yes. Very strange and uncomfortable. I must confess that I believe Nick is right. Did you notice the little scene after dinner?’

‘You may remember that you gave me to understand very definitely that my cue was to withdraw rapidly.’

‘So I did. Well, there wasn’t much in it. He merely glared at Nick across the table, and said something in German which neither of us understood.’

‘You’ll be telling me next he’s a fifth columnist,’ said Mandrake.

‘Not at all. He gives himself away much too readily. But I fancy he has frightened Nick. I have observed, my dear Aubrey, that of the two Complines, William catches your attention more than Nicholas. I have known them all their lives, and I suggest that you turn your eyes on Nicholas. Nicholas is rapidly becoming the – not perhaps the jeune premier – but the central character of our drama. In Nicholas we see the vain man, frightened. The male flirt who finds an agreeable stimulant in another man’s jealousy, and suddenly realizes that he has roused the very devil in his rival. Would you believe it, Nicholas wanted to leave tonight? He advanced all sorts of social and gallant reasons, consideration for me, for the lady, for the success of the party; but the truth is Nick had a jitterbug and wanted to make off.’

‘How did you prevent him?’

‘I?’ Jonathan pursed his lips. ‘I have usually been able to manage Nicholas. I let him see I understood his real motive. He was afraid I would make a pleasing little anecdote of his flight. His vanity won. He will remain.’

‘But what does he think Hart will do?’

‘He used the word “murderous.”’

There was a long silence. At last Mandrake said: ‘Jonathan, I think you should have let Nicholas Compline go.’

‘But why?’

‘Because I agree with him. I have watched Hart tonight. He did look murderous.’

‘Gorgeous!’ Jonathan exclaimed, and hugged his hands between his knees.

‘Honestly, I think he means trouble. He’s at the end of his tether.’

‘You don’t think he’ll go for Nick with a dinner-knife?’

‘I don’t think he’s responsible for his behaviour.’

‘He was a little tipsy, you know.’

‘So was Compline. While the champagne and brandy worked he rather enjoyed baiting Hart. Now, evidently, he’s not so sure. Nor am I.’

‘You disappoint me, Aubrey. Our æsthetic experiment is working beautifully and your only response –’

‘Oh, I’m absorbingly interested. If you don’t mind – after all, it’s your house.’

‘Exactly. And my responsibility. I assembled the cast, and, my dear fellow, I offered you a seat in the stalls. The play is going too well for me to stop it at the close of the first act. It falls very prettily on Nick’s exit, and I fancy the last thing we hear before the curtain blots out the scene is a sharp click.’

‘What?’

‘Nicholas Compline turning the key in his bedroom door.’

‘I hope to God you’re right,’ said Mandrake.

Death and the Dancing Footman

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